


take the road less traveled by (tell yourself you can always stop)

by cottagecorekim



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Drabble, F/F, Illicit affair, Mutual Pining, RPF, Requited Love, Romance, Smut, during jenkai, just need him for angst, sorry for the man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26647351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottagecorekim/pseuds/cottagecorekim
Summary: it doesn't help that jennie has always wanted lisa.
Relationships: Jennie Kim/Lalisa Manoban | Lisa
Comments: 35
Kudos: 156





	1. start

_it’s an understanding that isn’t completely understood._

lisa knows what goes on in something when she sees it happening, brain working on a cognition for a pattern like clockwork and infernal configuration, laying down all the cards given and puts them where they belong in the big picture. everything has a clear resolution in her head, no pixel with a missing detail or a dull color filled.

everything is ruined with jennie. there are no cards, there are just the bets, the gamble and the unsavory dread that comes along with everything that she does to lisa. a game on everything and nothing.

it should be easy because they know what this is and there’s an unspoken agreement that there was somewhere the line draws, sealed without anything but crumpled with everything.

lisa had it all figured out and made peace with it, but jennie crossed the line out and everything is at elementary grasp. this should be easy to understand too, but jennie acts as if there’s nothing at risk; as if she didn’t _know._ it’s all scattered now, and jennie inconsistent, volatile, and she’s either intentionally fucking around with lisa’s head (which means it all means nothing or lisa has missed the part where she can be cruel like that despite years and years of knowing one another), or that she’s completely oblivious and impulsive and careless.

_this._

this sneaking in the dorm every chance they get where jennie ends up pinning lisa on a wall, lisa bent over the bed, lisa writhing to jennie’s fingers and tongue, lisa being spent before a rehearsal, lisa blushing profusely during rehearsals because jennie knows what pushes her buttons.

_this._

this jennie blurred and everything her on the surface is a pretense because jennie cannot be _this_ daring (and filthy, insatiable, teasing, cunning), where jennie is unapologetic and unfazed every time, where jennie is getting braver in public escapades of touches that mean something more than just _being friends._

but they are friends.

friends who fuck each other occasionally that started after jennie kissed lisa and lisa kissed back like it’s something that has been going on; as if there isn't a possibility that rosé can walk in on them, jennie already straddling lisa on the lounge room sofa and jisoo from her room, getting a break away from whatever game she’s hyperfixated on.

they were watching _the handmaiden, of all fucking films lisa could possibly think of watching_. it doesn’t help that jennie looks like hideko in specific angles. it was halfway through the montage of hideko and sook-hee when jennie decides (not really) she’s going in for a sweep to risk it all. lisa was startled at first, from the feel of the sudden cold of jennie’s hand on her neck or the fact that jennie is kissing her, she doesn’t know, but she doesn’t exactly think either when she started kissing back like the way jennie did, bruising and not asking. jennie groaned, sounding deep and ephemeral and igniting everything in lisa.

_lust. youth. relief. rush. impulse._

they just stopped pretending because this had been dragging for far too long since debuting. perhaps. but lisa doesn’t care anymore, not when she’s seen the way jennie crossed her legs in particular scenes, or the way jennie has been slipping away from her act that only lisa knows if it meant something.

really, lisa should have seen this coming, and she should have known better than reciprocating but _maybe she is ready- they are ready- for this;_ kiss and fucking tell _._

“i was waiting for you,” lisa had said, placing her hands slow on jennie’s thigh as she looks up at her.

“your room or mine?” she asked, breath hot on lisa’s neck. lisa curses out soft when jennie bites light, teasing, and then says _mine_ against her ear.

-

…but jennie had left lisa when she woke up and regarded her like nothing happened the following days, keeping to herself most of the time, finding narrow escapes from lisa's stares and attempts of talking when the _solo_ ordeal of being busy is something that cannot be used as an excuse, until _we're not doing this now_ is understood.

the next time it happened, lisa had found herself on jennie's hotel room. jennie had called her in, ignoring the tension that had been looming as if the elephant in the room can hide behind _i have a bottle of wine that you want_ and _i want to see you._

lisa isn't stupid, but she tells herself _maybe she'll say something about it this time._

jennie lets her in, eyes already dazed and laced in something _else._ she had taken her hand, and lisa follows blindly, unable to do anything else but do as she wants like she's got her under some spell that she'd deny anyway of casting on (because perhaps, jennie doesn't really know _what_ _the fuck_ she's doing). they talk light, crowd being different, the weather, _the handmaiden,_ new cameras and things that do not matter at the moment _._

they don't talk at all after that, or lisa had imagined so. lisa doesn't remember anything else after jennie had followed her to the mini bar of the room. lisa had almost dropped the glass unfilled of the wine they were supposed to drink when jennie's fingers trailed her hand, sneaking up to hold her waist as she leaned in to kiss her neck.

lisa throws her head back on jennie's shoulder, closing her eyes, giving it up easily. "i thought we are drinking?" she asked, voice lush and deep like when she speaks in a different language that never fails to flick something in jennie's head. “perhaps talk?” _because they've stopped pretending until they are pretending again._

"i just said i had wine that you want, lisa," jennie said, playing coy.

_so she knows what she's doing,_ lisa thought, but nothing came after that because jennie tugs lisa to face her and it's just jennie kissing her again, and lisa's following like a worshipper of an idol carved ethereal on wood.

lisa offers kisses in the right places and the pressure of her tongue in secrets in bed, clothes half undone because jennie is impatient and the act on stage hours ago was a beacon on how much she wants lisa on her bed.

jennie rides her high against lisa's tongue, getting fucked through one after another and after another before she can weakly moan out _god, you're gonna kill me_ as she clutches at the headboard and the other pushing away lisa's head between her legs.

lisa had lain herself on jennie, weight that she's familiar with from the first night and jennie decides she'll let her. she's brought this upon herself anyway, and too exhausted because lisa learned too much from the first night, already knowing her body and where she should put her tongue.

lisa started thinking about it again, grounded back into reality and with the questions that haven't been asked, thinking perhaps there will be no pretenses. this is what she came for anyway (isn't it?). maybe jennie will run away and forget everything, or maybe jennie will give in. lisa knows she's being delusional, but she can't keep up with the days being unclear, feeling as if things are unclasping from her composition, so she lets the question roll out of her tongue before she can withdraw, courage pushed back in the guarded crevices among things she wants to ask.

"what are we doing, jennie?" she had asked, voice sure of uncertainty and fright but firm. she musters the courage to look up at her.

jennie had fallen asleep, but her heartbeat is still fast, rushing against the fragility of lisa's question. 

-

jennie has always been good at keeping to herself, feelings tucked away, remote and unreachable as much as possible, but it's hard with lisa. everything about lisa just slips before she even knew, spills at the brim until she's doing what she wants to do. it's hard because what she feels grows fonder with everything that lisa does.

jennie is getting good with excuses, smart enough to consider what's believable and most likely. she's getting good at convincing herself too, for comfort and self-preservation. because this isn't her: acting on things that she wants when the want comes.

_it doesn't help that she's always wanted lisa._

the only consolation in this is that they both knew where they stand; that they've been dancing around this and there hadn't been none of the meeting in between because they were young, thinking perhaps this is something that will pass, and because they've just started a career that had taken most of them and fueling this curious thing would jeopardize the only thing that they know what to do for the rest of their lives.

life is a spoil to avoidance strategies though, seemingly teasing at the wrong time and convenient for making a mistake or a room for speculation. all the fanservice done through the years and in all of them, jennie had to work it out into thinking that they are doing this because of the cameras and the audience.

jennie was smart enough to not act on anything, but this restrained, beautiful, shy, unrelenting _thing_ that started with _fondness,_ and then _admiration_ to _attraction, longing, yearning_ (dare would she say _love)_ grew more and more. a loud, nagging pull that always leads to lisa because she pulls at her too, not missing everything that seemed to say _come here and take what i'm willing to give you just this once._

jennie always looks away, not taking chances because _she won't stop once it's started,_ but lisa knows what she needs too much, all too seeing because they've both grown together into this. and that lisa is always so beautiful to an unjustifiable magnitude that it makes jennie want to capture everything she does; and lisa is gentle, and lisa had been wearing jennie's oversized shirt that she stole, clad in her shorts, hair down and skin glorious against the unusual sunny korea at the time of the year, and she wants to see the handmaiden with her.

something that jennie had tried to cage had escaped at her periphery and just clicked open the boxes that had something to do with _love_ and _lisa_ and _running away_ and _alone._ and jennie is kissing her and lisa is kissing back, under influence of years-worth of want and yearning for something that's just waiting.

that made it worse. _it's just waiting on jennie._

jennie doesn't think and lets all the suppression free, her hands willingly tied behind her as they all reached for lisa.

and when lisa says _i was waiting for you,_ everything blurs with only _this_ reality, selfish, flesh, lisa, _tongue, kiss, a whimper. lisa. lisa is kissing back._

_jennie is smart, but not when it comes with lisa._

_-_

jennie pretended to be asleep, only to wake up in the morning without lisa.

she ignores the pang of disappointment when it slapped. she deserves this anyway, doing but not really knowing anything about why the fuck she's letting herself be selfish, especially with lisa.

she _should_ tell her it's a mistake (but it isn't really a mistake because what she's been feeling is a dead horse tied at her feet every time she tries to walk away, and kissing lisa feels like walking on water, and that this should have happened years ago, and _nothing about this feels like it's a mistake)_ and they should just go back to the old mutual understanding _;_ that she can't do this because they've got careers now and _god, the backlash_ (but she can ruin herself over and over for this).

_because they're friends._ because she doesn't really know why the hell she's starting this now. she's tired, running away from lisa but she wasn't thinking either when she kissed lisa first, and here she is in this ordeal, trying to run away from another shitshow she created out of one of the few good things in her life that she tried to not ruin by _staying away, yearning._

maybe she can own up to this, but jennie can't even confront herself that she can't commit to this no matter how much she wants to because maybe, _she'll fuck it up like everything else,_ and because _she's lisa,_ and jennie can't have her risking everything for some good girl faith like her, hiding behind a clean exterior. it's cliche that she can't because she's afraid, and she knows she doesn't deserve lisa because things to lose still hold her back.

this selfishness is a double-edged sword that jennie is willing to hold if it meant lisa won't be scathed after this, but she's started anyway and the palm that holds the edge of _selfishness for the self_ is pushing at her bones, lisa's heart at the back of her hand, ready for the puncture.

she convinces herself that she can still fix this, no chance of undoing and this is a petty patch for the clutter of mess.

but it would be easier if she didn't love lisa and if she didn't know what she wanted. 

-

_it happens again and again,_ the clandestine meetings in the dorm and hotel rooms, the bolder one of the night to knock on the other's. the friendly courtesy in the day, personas on in platonic, and then the states of undress at night, clothes ripped and thrown away, kissing as lovers, "friends" burning away against the cold skin-on-skin.

lisa wishes she would talk, sometimes knocking at her door with the intent. jennie has always been good at talking but soon enough after the false small talk that gives up nothing, she's better at other things with her mouth.

or she kept ignoring it because she wants to be reckless too wants this, or she wants to be selfish too because jennie did it first, or she wants to keep this up until she can.

somehow, lisa knows this will end. this _something_ that's highly unstable and leaving all the clawing at their life now, deep and will always be there. maybe lisa wants to keep it all as a hallmark that for once, she had jennie like the way she wanted to for _years,_ and jennie wanted her too enough to build this up and eventually fall from it. what they are doing, of course, isn't a relationship, but lisa thinks she can live with this for now, draw out the bliss and the romance in something this rushed thing.

they hadn’t even talked. if the line isn’t blurred, lisa could accept it this way: without clarification. but jennie comes at her like a lover at night and the clueless meaning nags at lisa. the uncertainty of what comes after this unnamed thing that they have. 

lisa concedes that she wants this for now, so she decides she'll wait for jennie and give up everything every night.

-

jennie meets kai, and the double-edged sword inches toward both sides into her palms further.

-

jennie sneaks out to see kai whenever she can, night drives for hours, off to wherever kai's mind runs off to, or wherever jennie wants. it almost seems easy and good because kai makes her _forget,_ and jennie isn't someone he knew for years. kai gives her the sort of blank slate to begin with, choosing carefully the bones to throw onto him, letting him know things that people already know.

kai takes them somewhere with trees to an overlooking korea below on the third night they met up; somewhere quiet and where jennie is far from any reality. she'd be lying if she'll say she doesn't appreciate the view and kai taking her there. he almost feels like a friend and more (and tries to ignore the fact that he almost feels like lisa).

they are both quiet, looking over the night life when she looks at kai, eyes already on hers, waiting.

it doesn't help that he looks sincere and gentle, so jennie tells herself to kiss him like she kisses lisa, snatching the illusion that by the end of the night, she's in love with him because of the peace of mind he's given her that she can easily find in the confines of anywhere where lisa is. so jennie does.

because kai seems good, and kind, and gently threads on the water to where jennie leads him on, and maybe she _can_ forget.

kai kisses back, his hand sliding over jennie's on her thigh and holds. so jennie takes him further on the murky waters that she hides without him knowing. she paces the kiss further than _soft_ , her hand on his neck descending down on over his body, intent outspoken, decides that this is lesser of all wretched things she can do, and that lisa deserves better anyway.

"take me to your place," jennie says.

-

lisa isn't stupid and new to what jennie is doing, this pulling away from her. jennie is a good actress like always, but jennie is becoming more blurred than she already is. lisa understands why she is _lisa-ya_ to her in the morning and _darling_ at night, but the talk is an itch that lisa cannot simply ignore anymore fueled with this purposive and intent-unknown running away and avoiding.

so she knocks on jennie's door when rosé and jisoo had already been asleep, only to be met with silence from the other side and clashing keys behind her held by jennie.

"uh, hi." lisa takes in the sight of jennie under the low light of the hallway, flushed cheeks and eyes hiding shock and alarm. "i didn't know you were out," she says, moving out of the threshold for jennie.

"yeah, i wasn't out that long," jennie replies, unlocking the door, but she looks at lisa before she turned the doorknob, obviously not wanting lisa in. she deflates, and sure jennie sees it.

"do you need something?" jennie asks, stunt clear and script handed to lisa without question.

and _oh,_ lisa thinks, because that was cold, even with jennie pushing her away. lisa looks at her, stare almost shamefully begging but jennie doesn't budge, borders higher against lisa's attempts of prodding and navigating that she knows too well.

jennie is unreachable, so lisa concedes, knows when to give up and let go with her.

lisa sighs inwardly, a split second of closing her eyes and shaking her head, accepting her loss of the night. "no, nevermind," she says, not hiding the disappointment, courage scathed, before she turns to walk away to go back to her room, not daring to look back at jennie's blank face.

_to hell with waiting,_ lisa thinks.

-

jennie had been called to the office a few days later.

"dispatch got something. oppa said they caught jennie and kai from exo on a date," rosé had said, filling in lisa in the late afternoon at the lounge room. lisa misses how carefully she's said it and the pity in her eyes casted away from her, worried.

lisa knows kai. and _oh. on a date._

lisa ignores the way jisoo looked at her when she excused herself, alibi of afternoon rehearsal exhaustion. she strains the immediate anger, disappointment and shame with nonchalance just until she's on the hallway to her room, the numbness filling in and the feeling of a tear on her cheek.

-

lisa was in the kitchen when jennie came back. and _how convenient_ because they are left alone, rosé and jisoo out for dinner. jennie stands awkwardly at lisa's periphery, knows her body is tensed and unable to look away from lisa's frame at the far side of the kitchen.

"where are they?" jennie asks, and lisa hates how good of a fucking act she is even when her body tells different; hates how composed she is and lisa is all over the place, thinking nothing good and how fucked up everything is. the maddest thing is that lisa thinks this is her fault.

lisa ignores her and walks past jennie, but jennie stops her with a hand on her arm and lisa doesn't turn around. "lisa," she says, a little of a warning, a little of a pleading and guilt. lisa shuts her eyes as she lets jennie pull her closer.

she hates how much jennie knows her, how she's letting herself cry in front of her, how angry she is, for waiting. hates how she loves jennie and thought they'd work this out until jennie can already talk about this and none of the silent agreements and ties.

"i'm sorry," jennie but whispers. lisa hates how much she's gotten more angry. "it's better this way," she says.

lisa laughs and reels back in disbelief. "god, jennie, what the hell do you know about what's better?" lisa manages to choke out. “you fuck me like i’m everything to you and act like i’m nothing anyway.”

lisa suddenly brims at the edges, because maybe they knew more when they were younger. age had gotten them so stupid and so in love enough to ruin this.

jennie looks hurt now, but _to hell with being kind, to understanding, to waiting and_ _walking around eggshells and dancing on broken glass with jennie._

hours ago, lisa was willing to indulge on the possibility of the alleged date being nothing more but a shot at jennie's image, made up. that, perhaps, she's overreacting because jennie wouldn't hurt her. not when she's the one who came to her first.

those consoling were shots in the dark, too, and hearing the way jennie spoke to her a few moments ago was the confirmation that she needed to wake up.

jennie takes a step back from her, the space between them speaking loud. both of them had enough to hear with few words, unspoken things in the air and tensed gazes.

so when lisa walks away, jennie lets her.

-

"you can be real with us, you know?" jisoo says to her in a lounging room three days later when she finally sits again with a brave face she can maintain for more than a few minutes. lisa freezes to it, feels herself tear up and jisoo holds her hand and draws her into her arms.

"i'm sorry," lisa chokes out into jisoo's shoulder. 

"i wish i can say 'finally' because one of you finally made the move and 'wherever you're happy' but you're not," she says.

"is she?" lisa asks, can't even bring herself to laugh at jisoo's quip.

"i don't know. she didn't tell me anything about it, and i don't ask. but for what it's worth, she looks happier with you even if you don't do anything," she says. "look, i don't care that you're both doing what you're doing. hell, we're happy for you. but you know jennie; she's smart but stupid when it comes with you."

"unnie, i love her," lisa says, and saying it out loud to people who know feels like a thorn at her skin picked out, getting fuller by the minute, but it's just plain surrender of truth that has been out for years.

it's the first time that you talk about this in the open, too. it doesn't bring you much comfort than it should, but somehow, talking about it only empties it out a bit.

"clearly," jisoo says fondly tinged in sadness. "and she's just as clear. i think you've known that, so you should decide what to do and talk to her. you can't keep this up forever, lisa-ya."

lisa feels the dread settle in after the emptiness. 

-

lisa doesn't really see jennie for almost a week since _that_ night, thankful that for once, life doesn't get in the way. jisoo said she'd gone to her parents' for a while, alibi hanging on the week's free schedule. she doesn't hear from her either, possibly giving her the space she needed, or maybe jennie did it for herself.

lisa knows that thinking of that is spiteful, but she allows herself to feel it because it subsides anyway. there are times that she gets riled up thinking about it, but she still loves jennie, irrevocably so, almost regretfully.

she confronts things, wills herself to untangle the cacophony of this whole mess. she blames jennie because they _were_ doing fine until she kissed her, and now this. she confronts the fact that loving jennie won't go away too, and she doesn't have a choice but to go through it, back to being jennie's friend, because even when jennie is a blur as she is now, she's never had been a stranger.

jisoo and rosé checks in on her occasionally, making their presence and support always known when it hits lisa hard and they just know, offering anything to distract her.

lisa knows this can't go on. it'll only be a matter of time before the group would crumble and it would be her fault in failing all of them if she doesn't get her shit together.

so she gets better, trying to accept truths as much as possible every day that whatever’s happened is just as it is. she can't go on being in spite on distance with her while being in love with her. she can't go on like this grieving for something that never had a name in the first place, and jennie is still not everything even if she can do anything for her.

lisa decides she'll accept this, because she's been living in crumbs of jennie's affections anyway, squeezing out anything that's close to being lovers out of the friendship, and because no other meaning matters now that _jennie and kai_ is something.

so, on their rendezvous on the building balcony yet without her, sitting under the shade from the rain in the afternoon with jisoo and rosé bickering in the background, she thinks _she'll be okay._

-

on a tuesday afternoon, she finds herself alone with her on the balcony. it's unusually sunny for the time of the year, but the cold still hits her and she's just on a lose shirt.

jennie had just gotten back and decided to go for a smoke on the balcony, clad in thick layers of corduroy and flannels, and a stick already between her lips and fails to light up, but she realizes that she's not alone when she sees lisa sitting on one of the seats.

lisa gives her a half-awkward, half-amused smile to which jennie freezes to, lighter still by the cigarette unlit. "didn't know you still do that," she says, starting lightly.

jennie only blinks at her, and then snaps out, taking out the cigarette from her mouth, "i'm sorry, i thought nobody's in here, i'm just gonna g–"

"no, it's okay, stay. you know i don't mind," lisa says, and tells herself to be brave and that she can do this. "come here, let me light it for you."

lisa shakes slightly from the cold and anticipation, and jennie just as much. jennie walks to her, hesitating, but she sits beside her anyway and gives her the lighter, fingers brushing slightly. lisa shivers, realizing that it's been weeks since she's touched jennie, ignoring the slight burn of jennie's cold hands and what they remind her of in the night.

jennie leans in toward lisa's space. she flicks on the lighter, covers it with her a hand and so does jennie, careful not to touch her again.

maybe jennie's afraid (because she should be), and her head is spinning because lisa had just talked to her and is lighting up her cigarette, and she's close that her perfume is all over her and she's feeling lightheaded. maybe it's the whiplash from the travel. but what matters is that lisa isn't as spiteful as she was at her, and lisa looks better than she was when she let her go.

jennie's cigarette lights up. she lets lisa pull away from her space first before she takes a drag, closing her eyes and highly aware that lisa's watching her. jennie opens her eyes and offers lisa the stick that she takes, remembering that they're both not strangers to the temporary release of it.

lisa takes in a long drag that got jennie chuckling to which lisa smiles to, eyes closed and hugging herself as she exhales, shaking slightly.

jennie heads in, only to bring a blanket that she wraps lisa with before taking the cigarette from her again. perhaps on a slight excuse to touch lisa briefly again, hands lingering long enough on her shoulders that she knows.

"thank you," lisa mutters, shaking subsiding. "how was your trip?" she asks, looking outward into the view of the city.

jennie inhales, reminds herself that this is just the two of them as friends talking, nothing much, just catching up. the cigarette helps.

jennie exhales, imagines the tension leaving with the smoke from her mouth.

"it was okay," she starts, "mom hasn't changed, old fuss, still bothers with everything and talks shit about what i’m wearing."

_my mom asked about you before how i was. she knew about what i did and called me stupid. she loves you better than kai and told me she’s known about us for years._

"i bet. that flannel looks shit on you."

"i just got back, don't be mean," jennie quips. lisa chuckles, and _what a sweet thing to hear lisa's voice again,_ jennie thinks, dazzled in missing and basking at the seeming newness of lisa chuckling.

jennie offers her the cigarette again, breathes inwardly and finally asks after a silence. "and you? how are you, lili?" she threads, letting the nickname fall from her tongue.

she exhales. "i've seen better days," lisa says truthfully, but without a hint of remorse. _she sounds strong_ , jennie can't help but admire. she doesn't know what should come next. maybe she shouldn't have asked the question yet, but she thanks that lisa is honest. at least one of them is telling all truths, not half lies. she just wants lisa, _here with her, alone._

maybe that's regret speaking, but she's missed her.

another silence extends, and neither cries. the cold breeze of the late year brushes past, and both looks on, cushioning themselves in the quiet. jennie anticipates, and for what, she doesn't know. she didn't expect a confrontation to come so quick after getting back and she's tired.

but lisa is even more tired, wrestling against what yielded out from the night at the kitchen and all the curiosities and worries among what ifs that haunted them for years, all built up until lisa snapped at jennie.

_yeah, what the hell do you know about what's better, jennie._

"i," lisa starts, and jennie thinks, _god, i'm not ready for this,_ "i can't pretend i'm not hurt, jennie. and i'm still confused."

and then jennie thinks, _i love you, i'm doing this for you,_ hoping the tapping of her fingers on the arm of the chair is a code for that and lisa gets it.

lisa offers her the stick back, steady, and jennie picks it up with a trembling hand that she's unable to hide from calm eyes.

jennie bites her lips, willing to keep her emotions at bay, and then puts the cigarette between her lips, dragging long and exhales, turning away from lisa as she does.

"...but i can't be like this forever, following you around, and i think i'm done with that even if i don't want to. we can't be like this forever or we'll drag them down with us."

jennie nods at that, unable to say anything else, ashamed than ever.

lisa braves through her gut that wills her to close up now, stop and go back inside, but she asks. "does he make you happy?"

jennie manages out a weak _yeah,_ and lisa nods at that, and then asks again, "we were something else, weren't we?" and god, does jennie want to pull all the threads apart from the mess she made to kiss it better for lisa. compromise anything and start over, but she's started.

jennie has always been the good actress, the entertainment of the misery like a cornered prey dancing from danger creatively.

of course, she'll bleed out after this, the double-edged sword is sinking in again on both palms, because jennie couldn't think of another person she's at best with except lisa, knowing her for the most of her life that she felt she had lived. 

jennie wants to say _we were the best,_ and _it was everything_ and everything nice, a million more to say that it's always been lisa, wants to assure her that she'll always be, so she says, "you're my best friend," quiet and reverent as if a heavy strain isn't already there, thinking maybe she'll get it even when she's too hurt.

lisa smiles, melancholic and holy, like this thing between them is beautiful even without anything to call it out for (and it is). this dancing with both their hands tied, this waltz of great romantic that they've come into terms with as dancing both as women in their world that could both ruin them for it.

"i want to be happy for you, jennie, but it's going to take a while." _because i don't want to lose you. because i love you. i am going to try for you._

but jennie wants nothing but for lisa to save her from herself. jennie's shaking hands brings the stick at her lips, dragging in long again, taking it in before exhales, willing herself not to let the tears at her lids fall. she thinks, _you've done it. you've ruined it all._

and when her hand rests on the arm of her chair, lisa covers it with her own. jennie tries hard not to flinch at the contact, feeling as if she'd combust and disappear forever, but lisa grounds her down, her personal anchor. she takes the cigarette with her other hand, and brings jennie's hand that she holds to her lips, kissing it long and painfully gentle, all her love kept in a single point that jennie will cherish forever in case this is the last.

it feels like another seal, a sort of goodbye from a short-lived fire that both of them were so unwilling to extinguish. jennie doesn't want it.

"you're my best friend, too," lisa says softly, and when jennie tightens the hold of their hands, lisa decides, _just for a little while more._

she stomps on the cigarette, an amber sill living at the ends of being spent.

-

they try going back to the friends they were, little by little and they do. it's almost easy, because lisa had worked it out, seemingly more at ease with jennie day by day. jennie tries to get on with it while she's seeing kai.

she's good at keeping up appearances with him, seemingly in love and gives him everything in the confines of his room, in his car, meeting at discreet bars in the vips that have them ending with him pinned down, jennie on the upperhand.

jennie consumes what she can't have with kai, trying to spark something to save herself from this stupid idea, but being with kai only made jennie want lisa more, so she fools herself every night spent with him, playing play-pretend with the other possibly falling in love in the real world that she left for the escape in sensations that only lisa knew.

she seems angry when she fucks kai, but men love fierce women in pleasure and she's highly aware of what it does to him, throwing him a bone to feast on. she tries to feel, kissing him like a lover that she should see him as, but she only feels lisa. she leads him on bed and act like it's true in her head to make it feel like she knows what the hell she's doing.

jennie fucks him to forget lisa, but it's lisa's name that she stifle with a moan whenever she comes, imagines lisa's tongue, lisa's fingers, lisa's lips that kisses her, bruising into her high until she stops writhing against a body count.

jennie fights against the shame that settles after, hides it in kissing kai in hell.

she dresses up again, alibi of an early rehearsal ready as an answer when he asks her to stay the night, and she drives away, thankful they sometimes go in separate cars when they go out and this night is one of them.

she cries on the way home, stopping by at the roadside when the way gets too blurry and tries to remember the way lisa sounded when she told her how beautiful she looked before she went out with somebody else that's not her.

-

lisa feels... better, glad that she's slowly getting over _hurt._ jennie is a friend again, still keeping her at arm's distance, unlike before, but this is _good,_ tries to love jennie again the way she knew how and the way she'd been doing in the past years.

jennie even comes to her photoshoot as a surprise, peeking into her dressing room with a delicate smile and flowers in her hand.

"hey, you're here," lisa says, dumbfounded. "why are you here, are you shooting something too?"

"no, dummy, i'm here to watch you work the camera," jennie says, smiling at her. "here, got them for you for good luck that you don't need." she offers the flowers to lisa, sweet calla lilies, daisies and daffodils together.

lisa smacks at her arm lightly and takes them. "thank you," she says, ignoring feeling giddy as she hides her face behind the bouquet.

they've done this, surprise each other at solo photoshoots and whatnot, but they're beginning something new again, and lisa feels light. lisa thinks _she's got this, she's got this, i've got her._

jennie cheers at her from behind her own phone camera, sneaking in photos of lisa for herself because she looks beautiful as she always does, and she likes lisa with flowers, looking younger than she is and delicate, like an open secret uncovering.

when her shoot is done, she gets her souvenir, photos of her and lisa together, young and free, simple again.

and when lisa leans in to her and has her arms around her, she thinks wonders why she's complicated simple, pretty things.

-

they end up drinking somewhere near the dorm at walking distance. jennie had taken lisa home in her car, singing loudly along some mainstream tracks that she's seen lisa dance to until she's parked in the building, and then asked if she wants to drink in the place where jennie is a regular when out with other friends, promising they don't rat out their vips.

lisa says yes, because _we have to celebrate your shoot!_ and the hidden _because we're friends again!_

and then lisa is dancing in her levi's under the streetlights of urban korea at almost midnight. jennie is intoxicated too, but not as much as her.

lisa looks carefree and the happiest since they've started talking again. maybe it was the alcohol, but she's holding jennie's hand again like nothing happened. so jennie takes the opportunity and twirls lisa around.

lisa laughs loud at the thankfully empty district. jennie takes a picture of her, posing at the lamppost and laughs giddy because she missed this.

they reach their floor, sneaking past the girls' doors in a drunken giggle, ending up in lisa's room where lisa tackles her to the bed and on top of jennie.

"you're so fucking heavy, lisa, i can't breathe," jennie wheezes out, smiling with lisa's hair on her face.

“whiny baby,” lisa retorts and giggles as she rolls off from her, childish giddy and all.

then there's _that_ silence again that falls between reverie and silent agreement on _we're here again,_ and it’s nothing without the incense of romance that couldn’t settle.

jennie thinks she should get up, but lisa turns on her side, facing her and she looks. "unnie," she says, eyes closed now, as if mumbling half asleep. "unnie, we are good, right? we were good together, weren't we?"

jennie doesn't think she sobbers up, because she's even more dazed hearing that, feeling as if she heard wrong. because lisa talks bold now, and perhaps, this is good. jennie doesn't feel anything but fondness tonight.

"yeah, we _are_ good."

"yeah, because i'm the _best,"_ lisa says and jennie belts out a laugh that lisa shushes her with, sound stifled on her palm. "and you're _loud._ this is _why_ jisoo knew."

"like you aren't?" jennie retorts, and lisa shushes her again, smiling, and turns somber before she asks another question.

"why did you kiss me, jennie?" it's simply laid out, jennie kind of blanches back but they're drunk, and this is almost _nothing,_ feels like she could laugh at the way lisa sounded: like a mother reprimanding a child, demanding explanation for an intolerable act.

and jennie thanks god for the alcohol because she can say things, inhibition gone and she doesn't exactly know what's good to say at this point, but honesty comes out anyway, feels herself loosing the chain from being a liar and feels like the biggest person she's ever been.

"because it's _the handmaiden,"_ she says, which lisa snorts to, "and because you looked so pretty, and you have a nice taste for films."

"you look like hideko. now hideko and the handmaiden is ruined for me and i can't not think about you whenever i watch it."

"i _am_ aware. you've told me before."

"no, i take it back, you're prettier."

"that's what you're gonna go with in picking up girls?" jennie asks, laughing as she blushed.

"you're the only one i ever wanted," lisa says, quipping back, lighthearted as if what she said didn't have a heavy implication on what jennie means to her. they've never talked about it anyway _, sexuality_ , because they were trainees and life wasn't the same as everyone else's, too focused on a life of proving perfection and _something_. jennie knew for herself, but she didn't know for lisa.

"i _was_ waiting for you, you know? i wanted it. every single moment of it because you wanted me enough to stop being such a pussy," lisa says, pulling jennie out of her reverie.

"okay, now, you're _mean,"_ jennie says, laughing at her language because lisa is _never crass_ like that, no matter how mad she was. lisa just rolls her eyes at her and inches dangerously closer.

"i thought i'd wait," lisa murmurs quiet against the little space between them, eyes on jennie's lips as she taps a finger on them. "for you to talk..." _but you and kai happened, and i've gotten no chance because you've hurt me._

jennie closes her eyes, not knowing what's dreamed and truth anymore because this isn't a conversation that jennie imagines having with lisa too soon, talking like past lovers already out of love and had grown over again but so far from each other.

"i thought i'd wait for one day when we aren't afraid anymore, but i'd stop waiting for now, jennie," lisa says. "one day, i might again. should i, nini?" she asks.

jennie doesn't know how to feel about that, because this isn't a conversation for the loose inhibition, and jennie doesn’t know how else to answer but with slow inching in to reach for lisa’s lips, eyes closed, hand on her face. she is gentle, kissing lisa like she's everything because _she is,_ and kai could never compare. he's never as soft as lisa in the first kiss; they don't fit together like how it felt with her.

jennie feels invincible when lisa kisses back, wet cheeks and gasping.

jennie feels like she's done it again, walk on water toward lisa where she's on the other side of everything, and jennie thinks she looks so good in a light that reaches her even when lisa's saving herself from her for now.

"you're everything to me," jennie says, voice unsteady and it makes lisa choke back a sob. "i'm sorry i've ruined this." lisa shuts her up with a kiss, doesn’t think she wants to hear more. jennie thinks _oh, what the hell. i've ruined this,_ as her kisses grow closer reminiscent from the weeks before, wishing she's kissing it better for lisa when her mouth is kind at her lips and bruising on her neck that lisa's body arches to her.

jennie worships her, half sober, and so is lisa, but it doesn't matter because lisa whispers "you're doing this to me again" against her ear when she's drawing her closer, arms wrapped around jennie's frame on top of her. jennie knows what she means, but lisa's letting her anyway, so she pulls lisa's shirt over her head as she rises up from the bed to meet jennie, pulling jennie into her lap and kisses on her neck as her hand snakes at her waist, shirt thrown on the floor to equal undress and her breasts unclasped free, lisa's mouth leaving flush at her wake.

"so beautiful," lisa whispers against her skin as she looks at her, jennie's eyes closed. "don't do this to me again," lisa says, and it should sound spiteful but jennie hears nothing but a plea, _a promise me this is the last time_ in the middle of the silence. she pulls lisa to her chest instead, embrace in a tender lock of something like a promise of something else than what lisa wishes. jennie seals it with another kiss at lisa's temple, and jennie pushes her back down gently and grinds down, sees lisa closing her eyes and biting her lips to smother a moan, the sound gorgeously low at her throat. when lisa reaches to her, jennie pins her down, lisa’s hand over her head and the other reaching to unzip lisa’s jeans.

jennie shushes her when she moans at her bite on her shoulder. “this is about you,” jennie whispers against lisa’s skin as the younger shudders. jennie’s fingers find lisa ready, intends to tease her until she’s a writhing mess, lisa in a chant of _please_ until jennie gives in, fingers at her mercy. “it’s always been about you, lisa,” she whispers, breath hot as lisa gasps, breathing shallow at jennie’s rhythm, pushing in the third finger. 

she loves lisa slow, devouring what she can because maybe she can deal with this being the last, like every other time, and embeds the way lisa unable to stifle herself from loudness when jennie uses her tongue into memory. carves the sting of the scratch of lisa's nails on her scalp when she stops teasing and there’s nothing else she wants to hold on to. the sensuous _jennie_ that rolls out from her tongue when she tightens at jennie's fingers and makes a mess on the sheets, and jennie couldn't care less, smelling sex when lisa looks immaculate in-between losing herself and coming alive from jennie’s relentless fingers, choked up on a breath with jennie's name.

jennie controls time, slowing everything so she can hold lisa like this, wrapped up in their own haze from something that’s ending loosely. it’s jennie’s world crumbling slowly, not knowing lisa’s at the brink too because jennie is her world and everything is gravitating away, deconstructed into separate things that fell together and then fell apart.

"i don't want to lose you," jennie says when lisa finally closed her eyes. she says it in ambiguity, _because i fucked it up, and i thought this would fix us. Because i'm afraid, and i can’t imagine a life without you in it._

maybe that makes jennie think twice on the god complex, but lisa hand find her bare waist and settles warm against jennie’s marked body and jennie decides to think about it some other time.

"then don't leave,"lisa murmurs, and jennie likes to think maybe she knows and understands everything that led to this. and then she says "you're my best friend" as she sinks further into jennie's arms.

jennie tucks the memory in, tells herself it's all she needs.

-

jennie wakes into a feeling that her world has ended when she had let herself fall asleep to lisa’s breathing; feels new and awake, but it did not. 

lisa had been staring at her, and then she smiles.

“good morning, nini,” she says, voice new as the day and everything blooms bigger for the best and for the worst.


	2. beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited. sorry ): will edit l8rr

jennie feels they’re stronger after that, something made new in the dark but more defined; feels like wine aged fine with years in an overnight on lisa’s bed from weeks ago.

they spend the days falling back together as friends over lisa's photography and jennie's writing, hours and hours spent behind the lenses of lisa's repertoire of analog cameras and listening to jennie's scraps of progressions on guitar as she writes, a song or two in the works. nevertheless, it's a graceful falling that it just happens. jennie feels as though almost there's an undertaking in the way she gravitates toward lisa, a sweet fate that lines their lives together that's equally painful and cruel but jennie loves it anyway. it's not something that she believes in, but lisa does.

afternoons these days are meant for one another since the privileges of rest given to them for the approaching holidays. lisa is lounging in jennie's room, canisters of films gathered around her, trying to sort them out by month with a marker only to give up after an hour, deciphering negatives from negatives.

"that's beautiful," lisa says, eyes closed and basking at the sound from jennie's guitar and humming. it's something that jennie had been working on throughout the week and had finally figured it out. "what's it titled?" lisa asks, sitting up, intending to peek at jennie's notebook as she writes the chords down, but jennie flips the page, knowing what lisa's about to do from her periphery.

"i don't know yet," jennie answers, putting the guitar down and turns to lisa, hair disheveled and eyes on a lilt of daze eyeing the notebook behind jennie. "don't even think about it," jennie warns.

"you used to let me read your lyrics," she whines, pouting at jennie and hoping the magic works, but jennie pushes her leaning face back.

"you'll hear it one day anyway," jennie says. "probably," she adds thoughtfully, thinking about the newer songs she's penned that yg wouldn't let her record and her lost notebook (that they've most likely stolen). "anyway, what's up with these films? why aren't these developed?" she asks, picking up a canister dated 2017.

"haven't got the time yet," lisa says, shrugging. "and i may have forgotten about them until now. i just saw them in my room this morning when i was looking for blank films. i kinda ran out today."

"you planning on putting together a photobook?" jennie asks, taking in how there's perhaps at least thirty canisters with 24 and 36 shots each in them. "you've always wanted to publish one," she says.

"i don't know yet. i might. we'll see once i got these developed i guess," she says unsure, but there's a twinkle in her eyes that makes jennie smile, knows how passionate lisa is with her craft and not just with dancing and writing lyrics. lisa has always got an eye for photography anyway, and it's something that both of them share.

"oh, you _so_ will. i know that look," jennie says.

"won't do it unless you let me though."

"what? why? those are your photos, lili."

"they are, not completely though," lisa says as she opens a canister and carefully rolls the negatives out into the light for jennie to see. "most of the photos i took are yours, probably as much as i take sceneries and stuff." the roll was all jennie's photos from thailand when she visited her in holidays, a few of them stolen with a view when lisa toured her around sights, and most in jennie’s hotel room.

jennie blushes, giddy, remembering the strolls they took, holding hands and lisa happy in her hometown, and when lisa had asked her to be her muse for practicing her eye on the lenses.

jennie cannot possibly forget thailand, having lisa alone for herself without being conscious even if what they had was an open secret in the group. she'd felt the closest with lisa when they were in thailand; fell in love with her more because lisa was different when she was in her homeland, all chivalrous and comfortable. something about the weather in thailand that matches lisa's perpetual disposition that she _glows._

"sorry about the stolen shots. i should have asked," she says, taking back the negatives from jennie's hands.

"i mean, i _did_ agree to be your muse then," jennie quips lightly, ignoring how she likes the sound of that. _muse._ "you can put whatever you've taken of me in your photobook, lili."

"maybe, curate it with me once i've got them developed? or collaborate on a photobook? you've got your negatives too, right?" lisa suggests, smiling hopeful at jennie.

"yeah, i have, but they're not as good as yours," she says, opening another canister.

"i've seen your photos, nini."

"and?" jennie asks, taking out the roll and seeing urban korea and portraits of people she doesn't recognize from anywhere.

"and don't downplay yourself, collaborate with me," lisa says, stubborn and almost seething that makes jennie laugh. "i'm serious!"

"maybe," she says, teasing lisa as she opens another canister undated. they were of jennie's too, seeming to be in thailand but not in the same date as the one from the first roll. there were sceneries and a portrait of jennie looking directly at the camera with a view of a landscape behind her, looking serene.

"you looked so beautiful there. i could tell you loved that place," lisa says, rousing jennie from the negative. she remembers taking the photo well, almost seeing the film in vivid color. she'd never seen jennie so mesmerized by a view, never seen her look the same anywhere else. she looked as if she belonged there. jennie's face belongs everywhere, but the landscape was hers in all the greens and absence of any infrastructure, pure and lush. jennie's eyes were the same.

it makes her miss thailand, seeing the photos. it doesn't help now that there's an added heaviness in missing her homeland, imagining jennie with her and all the freedom in it, remembering how jennie seemed in thailand— as if she's supposed to be there.

"take me there again someday," jennie says, smiling at the girl, meeting a longing stare that dies out as quickly as she saw it.

lisa seizes jennie's face for herself. she dreams in technicolor and wakes to jennie's voice in her head before sunrise.

_someday again._

-

"so, kai," jisoo drawls suddenly when another game starts again, nonchalance at its finest that it almost makes jennie comfortable only if she doesn't know jisoo well.

"yeah, kai," jennie quips back, mildly taunting jisoo into spitting it out of her head.

"who's kai?" jisoo asks as she takes the lead in the round against jennie. she had been losing for hours now, and jennie should have known there was something about the way her and rosé had been talking discrete in the kitchen.

"unnie," jennie whines.

"what? it's just that, you've never even called him his real name, or even talked about him," jisoo retorts, not taking her eyes out of the screen and defeats jennie for the umpteenth time in the night. "you're getting rusty at this, jendeuk. is that what a man does to you?" she asks, teasing, and jennie pouts, lightly hitting jisoo's arm.

"jongin is—"

"oh, so that's his name?"

"jongin," jennie punctuates, glaring at jisoo. "—is okay. what do you want to know, unnie?"

"how is he with you? is he good with you?" jisoo asks, looking at jennie, trying to reassure her because jennie had tensed up, sitting straight and formal. jisoo knows jennie too well to know when she’s going to pull away, knows when something is a talk for another time, or when jennie being honest is just lodged in her throat.

“he treats me well,” jennie starts carefully, looking at the monitor, starting another round. “unnie, character,” she says, her controller pointed at the monitor, trying to distract the conversation a little longer.

the elder rolls her eyes at her and starts another game. “are you happy?” she asks jennie, focused on jennie, mindlessly playing.

jennie _isn’t_ happy because it isn’t even about _that_ in the first place, so jennie finds herself saying “i don’t know him well enough to know if i’m happy with him,” bated breath in an exhale as she says it.

it’s the first time she admits out loud and realizes it’s the first time that she’s actually talking about kai with somebody else. jennie feels herself getting overwhelmed, but she reminds herself that it’s just _unnie,_ and they’re in her room without cameras or any hidden agenda set out to ruin her. her hands sweat, griping the controller to settle herself and minding the rhythm of the way she presses at the buttons.

jisoo is silent for a while, thinking, letting her have her time, and jennie hates that she can read her mind. she’s been walking around eggshells for weeks, and jennie has been holding back on asking how lisa had been when she was gone. jisoo’s always had a way to coax everything out of everyone, and it’s not everyday that somebody can get ahold of what’s going on inside her head.

“have you talked about it with lisa?” she finally asks. “you two seem better these days,” she says.

the thing with jisoo is that jennie can never lie with her, and she doesn’t hide anything anyway with how she is with lisa but it’s uncanny and funny how they’re talking about her and lisa when she’s with somebody else (technically).

“we talked,” jennie says quietly as the turmoil in her head stutters to a calm. “we’re okay,” jennie adds in delicately.

jisoo hums thoughtfully at that, a tinge of _yeah, sure_ in it that’s pitiful and knowing. “she was a wreck,” she says after a while. jennie is defeated in the game a split second later. “but you already knew that.”

jennie feels chided somehow, but she doesn’t feel being ganged up on and angered at because jisoo was never the one to take sides in things where both sides lose.

“what are you doing, jennie?” jisoo asks, straightforward, a gentle inquiry in the night that settles good enough for jennie to seize the honesty in her.

“i don’t know, unnie,” jennie says, eyes straight on the screen. it is the truth, because she was kissing lisa and everything is something right that felt wrong, out of place and out of her hands, and suddenly she feels she has to save lisa from something that had creased jennie’s faith in this thing they’ve both built for years.

it’s a cruel awakening of suddenly being swallowed up in doubt, and it’s the worst because it’s fucking selfish, how it ate her up and at the same time clung onto lisa only to leave her hanging and to use another just to forget about it.

_it,_ the one thing that’s so beautiful, something in the way it burns about not touching it for years— that’s hers and lisa’s alone in a world that only they can destroy, and she did, crushing it in a second behind her back as she danced with someone else.

a hand soothes her that she realizes she’s crying, the elder pulling her close. she collapses into a quiet grief long held back from imploding.

“i thought i was doing the right thing for her,” she says. “i wasn’t even thinking about the group, unnie, i'm s—”

jisoo shushes her apology. “don’t even think about that. you know we’re better than that,” she says, strong conviction laden in her voice. “it’s not like we did not see this coming, anyway. me and chaeng, we’re not blind, you know.”

jisoo holds her and it’s what jennie just needs: some comfort, reassurance and somehow a validation that is not met by any prejudice or by anything at all.

it’s a heavy revelation lain down softly against the harsh reality.

“so kai and you isn’t really…” jisoo trails off, the _isn’t really something real_ implied in her tone.

“no, unnie,” jennie says. “i thought i could forget about lisa with him.”

jisoo nods at that, understanding. “what are you going to do, jendeuk? you can’t drag this on forever. it isn’t fair with him either,” she says.

it’s another truth that jennie has been avoiding, because kai is a failed damage control that brought more damage. she shouldn’t have used him either in the first place. it’s a grave that she’s built for herself.

“i’m figuring out as i go, unnie,” she says. “i just want to build everything with lisa again.”

“you’re getting there, you’re her best friend.”

jennie smiles at that, tenderness behind _best friend_ never lost to her. maybe it’s something she clings onto, and so does lisa.

“you know, you need to live more,” jisoo says. “the group isn’t the life. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i love what we’re doing and it’s what i want to do, but this isn’t going to last, you know.”

jennie nods at that, and it makes her think, because this has been her whole life. she’s risked and had given everything for this career. she’s 24 years old, but this is her life, in a spotlight with very few things lived on outside it because very few things thrive genuine in this living.

it’s not full living, what she’s chosen, but it’s a living that had led her to meeting lisa. she’s known lisa for what feels like her whole life in this only world that she knows.

maybe lisa is her world too.

jennie trembles at that, bates at her breath and lets the realization settle in like an aging wine at best.

“jesus, how are you gonna be able to look at kai the same way after this?” jisoo says.

jennie pinches at her arm and groans, the sound of jisoo’s laughter pulling her out of the somber night and thinks she’ll figure it out.

-

“so, how are you, girlfriend?” chaeyoung asks lisa, a hand over her shoulder as they walk hip to hip in the quiet district. “feeling better?

lisa nods, fiddling with the camera strapped in her hand, knowing exactly what she’s asking about. “yeah, i feel better.”

“and?”

“we’re just trying to be the same, chae,” she says, leaning on her friend. she's always been her confidante as lisa was hers for years since the years of being trainees, friendship built on homesickness and pining over people.

“like, which part exactly?”

“chae,” lisa whines, doesn’t know if she’s teasing or not.

“what? we’re not blind, you know? you’ve been, like, ogling at each other for years, it’s starting to get sickeningly sweet lately. well, before, you know,” rosé rambles. lisa laughs, somehow thankful at the girl’s outward complain that she can talk about it lightheartedly.

“like… just the friends part…” lisa says, a little unsure, remembering the night at her room and all the drunken talk.

rosé snorts at that, mumbling, “ _friends_ , my ass, but sure, whatever you say, lisa.”

“why, chaeyoung-ah, jealous?” she asks, teasing.

“no, just that i actually want to peacefully eat something in the kitchen at midnight without doubting whether what i heard is a moan or a ghost in the dorm, because i’d rather it be a fucking ghost to be honest,” she retorts, deadpanned and looking straight at lisa, who blushes and looks horrified. “or like, stop thinking about where your hands were after the breaks during rehearsals. those were hell weeks, by the way, we didn’t know where to sit anywhere in the do—”

“okay, okay, i get it!” lisa says, mortified and ashamed, hands covering her blushing cheeks. rosé laughs at her, pinching her cheeks and takes her photo, blushing like a school girl.

“that’s my way of saying we don’t mind, you know, if it ever happened. you and jennie,” she says, pulling lisa close to her again. “or will happen again, who knows.”

“chaeng,” lisa says, a warning, tone different, because lisa can’t slip falling back of again, thinking about it backwards.

“—and, like, don’t rush in, okay?” rosé cuts her off. “i know this is not the talk that you need, but you know jennie. she… does questionable things sometimes, but she comes back,” she continues. lisa swallows at that. the thought makes her tired. of course, she knows jennie, but what they have— whatever it is now— isn’t really something that she wants to challenge more than it already is.

_she comes back,_ and she hates how it’s the truth. hates how she holds the idea closely even when it suffocates her, feeling used and scattered, left away to be a cushion for something shiny and buries deep.

lisa's known jennie for half a lifetime, but everything she believed about her crumbled at “jennie and kai” in that late afternoon.

it makes her wonder now if her love for jennie has been weak all along even with the years in between that it grew up with them and changed; thinking about how she thought about how she felt and nothing else.

had she been selfish?

“it suddenly felt like i never knew her, chae,” she says. “i just felt so used,” she admits quietly.

and she did. she still _does._ it didn’t matter that jennie is afraid because she gets it, but it’s the mindless and sudden pulling together— that lisa is more than willing to go with— but the sudden pulling away and _kai_ that makes it all resentful and mean nothing.

lisa didn’t want to feel that way because jennie would never do that, but then again jennie wouldn’t have risked it all this.

there’s a sudden turning at everything that lisa’s built for weeks, sodden again and slowly pulling apart at the seams.

rosé squeezes her shoulder, and lisa realizes she’s about to tear up. she looks away, wills herself not to cry, at least not in the streets because getting caught crying is the last thing she needs.

“i’m here,” she hears rosé say.

she doesn’t come back to the dorm with her, a weak excuse of sorting things in the apartment that rosé had let go.

lisa’s slides back down into the slums of everything she’d left behind for weeks. _jennie comes back, so does lisa’s chastised grief._

-

lisa is stuck on the train of thought with a circle of doubt following her around, relentless and precise at her, turned stranded and aimless because it seems like there’s no other way out for the big guilt and shame at the center of it all.

she hid it well from jennie until it had just been the both of them left alone. lisa had to answer the door because jennie had been cooking for the both of them, only freeze at kai, waiting with flowers clutched in his hand.

it was a flash of an awkward and polite greeting, one with a nervous smile and lisa’s fake one before lisa retreated into the kitchen to tell jennie it was kai. lisa had busied herself, chopping onions, not enough to not see jennie in her periphery looking mortified before she hears a whisper of cuss and hurrying to the doorstep. lisa hears a quiet _hi_ , a kiss on the cheek perhaps, a _thank you_ and a _wait for me_ before the door closes.

lisa remembers jennie’s reluctance when she called her name and an act of _it’s alright, i can handle this_ before shooing her away from the kitchen because she’s supposed to feel okay about this by now.

_don’t keep your man waiting,_ she had said, but lisa can’t act to save her life.

she doesn’t dare looking at jennie when she says her goodbye, shy and sort of ashamed and a hand at her back. lisa had waves the spatula in the air and tells her to keep safe.

lisa ruins the supposed dinner.

-

lisa doesn’t eat anything for dinner, but does open a bottle of wine kept in her stash from her apartment.

it had just been her second glass when jennie joins her on the balcony, clothes changed into a stolen shirt from lisa’s wardrobe and shorts, jacket-clad and blankets at her hand, offering one to lisa. she settles her own glass at the table and pours for herself.

“date done already?” lisa asks, composed and hiding behind her wine.

“yeah. i wanted to go home. i wasn’t in the mood,” jennie answers noncommittally before sipping at her glass. “you know i don’t like being surprised like that,” she says. “and the wine was disgusting from the place he took me to.”

lisa laughs at that. “this is better, then?” she asks, swirling fine wine at her glass.

_here with you is much better,_ jennie thinks, says “yes, thank you”, earnest at her teasing.

“he’s got to do better than shitty wine, then. not my girl being treated like this,” lisa says, theatrics on the humor. jennie basks on the way she says _my girl_ , smiling giddy at the woman.

“is he good with you?” lisa asks jennie. maybe she’s asking out of curiosity, maybe she wants to know for jennie’s sake. maybe she’s compulsively trying to sway the doubts that follow her to just stop wondering.

jennie thought it was something of an agreement to not talk about him, if not for lisa trying to save herself or to not ruin clearing the crease between them, or just the courtesy of kind relations between whatever they were.

“you know you don’t have to,” jennie says, looking at her, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“i know, but he’s someone to you, so,” lisa says, lightly, swirling her glass of wine, taking everything in it, but jennie thinks she won’t survive it if their roles are reversed. lisa goes with it in grace, a momentary mess out of it but better than jennie could ever be.

jennie surprises herself. “i don’t know if he’s someone to me in the first place,” jennie replies. it’s a wistful tone, and maybe jennie wants lisa to react with it and save her away, lead her further to choosing her more than she’s already thinking about it even if she doesn’t have a right because she chose this in the first place.

jennie looks away from her when she falls silent and doesn’t see lisa close her eyes at that.

it isn’t a relief. there’s a major part in lisa that screams joy at that, but the cacophony of _so, what’s the point in this_ and _whatever did you even mean_ and _she still made you feel used_ are too loud to go with it, too confused but still so in love and hoping. 

“i thought i was happy,” jennie starts.

lisa stifles the urge to ask her if she’s happier with him.

it is jennie’s lie one, because it was the disfranchised illusion that kai makes her happy, thinking the nice and quiet, and the new slate is enough. “he’s someone else when he shouldn’t be.” a half lie, because _he’s not you._ “we don’t see each other much now,” jennie says. lie three, because she’s been avoiding him in tactic, knows her way around her excuses and it’s partially true that she’s got a lot going on, and so does he anyway.

and maybe jennie doesn’t want to keep up with it anymore, with kai. she looks at lisa and hopes it meets with her halfway.

"i don't think we'd last," jennie says, taking in whatever lisa may be thinking but seeing nothing. perhaps she’s clouded at the moment because of the buzz of their favorite wine, or because her conviction at the moment is too strong that she feels bigger than her body.

if jennie knew better, maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, but it's the lesser evil between what she's done on riding with her god complex.

what was she even thinking? _saving lisa? from what even?_ if this meant anything at all, it just meant that she'd hurt lisa over her projected fears when they've both loved each other for years. her impulse on kissing lisa had betrayed her, and there could have been much better things if she'd just stayed in the morning, or talked to her instead of playing coy or pretending to fall asleep.

that makes jennie want to withdraw, but she’d rather admit this now because dinner with kai felt like a dine of a loveless marriage, million times done, and sitting in the balcony in cold with lisa, a talk of hell, is something that she’d rather have for the rest of her life.

its a horrific drench of humor over her life when lisa is the best thing that she'd probably never have.

"you never know, jen," lisa finally says, putting a hand over jennie's that’s now gripping the arm rest. lisa had tried to choose her words carefully, so refuses to give in just for tonight, not wanting to get ahead of herself of any meaning before it turns to something that she won’t accept another for.

there's something resigned in it, and jennie hates the sweet sound of lisa's voice when she says it. it makes jennie want to turn time around and lay back until lisa stirs up awake against her, because jennie can't forget having lisa like she's wanted for years.

"why are you even saying that?" _why are you saying that when we both know more than that?_ jennie asks, closing her eyes as if that would give her bravery back from minutes ago before lisa said anything.

"because you really never know," lisa says, withdrawing her hand, jennie feeling the absence of the warmth.

jennie feels sick, and lisa's fake laughter that sounds painfully bitter assaults her conscience. "still don't know how to confront things, unnie?"

"i don't even know how to 'confront' centipedes, lisa," jennie retorts on impulse, and lisa's laugh turns into a genuine one that it makes jennie smile and fall back easy.

_so this is what lisa felt like._ jennie thinks this is her own medicine, and she swallows up her pride for it.

the night goes on, conversation falling into a light one and smiles, wine flowing easy unlike the high lifeline that jennie has both led them into.

-

_jennie finally makes up her mind and starts to pulls away her palms from meeting at the middle through the sword._

-

lisa isn’t completely aware with how they ended up slow dancing to nothing in her kitchen.

an hour ago, jennie was asleep, booze and tiredness getting the best of her, and lisa had sent jisoo and rosé back to their dorm after celebrating christmas early just by themselves before parting ways for the holidays. they had let loose on champagne and wine at the expense of lisa’s stash.

lisa remembers being startled by jennie, getting water for herself, eyes clear from any traces of awoken daze, and something about _a dance as an apology for sleeping halfway through the night—_ remembers jennie tugging her close by her cardigan as she tells her to shut up to lisa’s stupid joke, a bashful smile at her face.

jennie looks up to lisa, her hands clasped behind her neck and lisa’s at her waist. lisa takes the first step and sways them into a rhythm under the bright kitchen light.

it's all theirs, and they live in this world alone at the moment. jennie seizes it and immortalizes it in her head, thinking no other time will come around for this: lisa slightly tipsy and smiling at her in silence that jennie’s mouth has its own mind, saving jennie from falling back into the abyss of doubt among with the things she believed she was doing for the best.

“i love you,” jennie says quietly, raw admission that escapes her in a breath. she’s acted on it a million times as much as her longing stares had betrayed her, and a million times that lisa had caught on them.

it's a cycle that’s lisa’s often trapped in: jennie’s push and pull with her that’s just so fucking tiring— this _do i give in to this_ or _is this worth it at all?_ and lisa so badly wants to entertain her anger but she found none because it’s what she’s been aching to hear, and jennie’s voice is an altar of truth that now exists.

lisa doesn’t know what to think anyway, doesn’t think she knows what she feels but her hands pull jennie closer against her. jennie gasps lightly and looks up at her, waiting and anticipation beating loud against her chest that she feels everything she has for lisa expand beyond her.

jennie doesn’t realize she’s leaning to kiss lisa until she hears her. “jennie, jennie…” lisa says, a whisper of a chant, a sort of particular reverence in the softness of it but still a warning that doesn’t scathe but doesn’t exactly not hurt.

lisa feels overwhelmed, almost sobers up as they sway into no music and wishes she could really hate jennie, wishes there could have been a fine line where they walked on but everything is mixed up again.

“you’re making this hard,” lisa admits softly, but already halfway resigned to giving it up for jennie. it feels horrifically organic, suffering for love like this and lisa doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it.

_because it shouldn’t be this hard._ such confession shouldn’t confuse and shouldn’t hurt but it does.

“i know,” jennie says as she leans to rest her head on lisa’s shoulder, her heart beating into a highline against her ear and jennie knows it’s for her.

“i thought we’d wait. i don’t know for what,” lisa begins, a strong conviction in her voice that jennie trembles to the tenderness and sought candor in it. “i’ve lost you, jennie. everything seems to mean so little now,” she says, finally pouring her heart out onto jennie, her years’ worth question encased in this pinnacle of a question with the cruel continuum of time that led them to this: in state of building and rebuilding.

“just dance with me, lisa,” jennie says, brave in the night where their roles are reversed, lisa being the one at the reins of this now. she’d rather have lisa like this for now than ask for a clarification because maybe, she’s afraid at the neon sign of losing in this gamble. “let’s have this for now,” she mumbles as she melts into lisa, heart heavy and wanting more because lisa never lost her. it’s jennie who lost lisa.

lisa asks her to stay the night and leaves early in the morning, with lisa’s kiss on her cheek and a hug, telling her she’ll miss her.

jennie smiles on the way to her mother’s house.

-

lisa goes back to thailand, a part of her heart held by jennie in korea and the other with her in the warm solitude of homeland.

her mother asked about the three of them, but she asks about jennie the most, knowing her daughter well. there had always been something about the thought of her mother and jennie that floods a lightness into lisa whenever she remembers how they both are with each other, her mother seeing jennie as her own more than anything and jennie seeing her mother as her mother too.

they don’t talk over the holidays. it’s just the space that lisa needs to think and let everything settle down, but she misses jennie anyway.

her love grows fonder and holds on to jennie’s words.

-

jennie had resisted the temptation to call lisa in thailand. there’s unrest in her that just wants to know where they stand now, but she tells herself it’s just a few days and they had left in a rather good end by lisa’s doorway.

jennie is never good in missing people, and missing lisa had almost made her forget about kai until he had called, voice onto something that just tells jennie she’s getting obvious but she couldn’t bring herself to care because courtesy is the least she can do for him.

kai had greeted in christmas eve, brief and letting himself known. he asked to visit that jennie remembers turning down for a good alibi. she heard kai sigh at that, and she could’ve flinched at that but she’s only got lisa in her mind.

he’d told her he loved her over the phone for the first time, and that he misses her, showers her with things sweet over the phone and maybe, she could have loved him.

jennie ended the call with an “i’ll see you” with all the warmth she can muster.

she spends the days feeling the ghost of lisa’s hands meddling at her skin, waiting again and chivalrous. something in it says _come haunt me again._

-

**_(_ ** **_★_ ** **_BREAKING) Dispatch Reveals EXO’s Kai and BLACKPINK’s Jennie Are Dating_ **

_Dispatch has confirmed 2019’s first couple: EXO’s Kai and BLACKPINK’s Jennie!_

_Every year, Korean news outlet Dispatch rings in the new year by revealing new celebrity couples to the public. Girls’ Generation’s Yoona and Lee Seung Gi, Rain and Kim Tae Hee, and EXID’s Hani and JYJ’s Junsu all had their first reports come from Dispatch._

_This year, they released photos proving that EXO’s Kai and BLACKPINK’s Jennie have been secretly seeing each other._

_According to Dispatch, Kai picked Jennie up at her house after coming back from a schedule in Hawaii. Dispatch released photos of the two getting into a car together before they drove to their date at Sky Park._

_Dispatch also caught the couple walking while holding hands as they took a walk at night together. One of Kai’s Instagram posts was allegedly taken by Jennie._

-

jennie isn’t surprised anymore about the article release. getting called in the office about publicity and damage control is something she’s used to by now, but not so much the hate on the social media, so she avoids the internet for days.

she’s surprised to see lisa in the dorm though, days earlier than her scheduled flight and asleep through the afternoon on the couch, still fresh from the trip and her luggage just outside her room.

jennie ended up cooking dinner for the both of them that woke lisa up.

“what are you doing here?” lisa had asked behind jennie, startling her, thankfully without a knife in her hand.

“me? what are _you_ doing here? you’re not supposed to be in korea for three more days, lisa,” jennie says, and turns back to give lisa a hug who reciprocates happily, pulling jennie close, face buried at her neck. “missed you,” jennie mumbles.

“baby,” lisa mutters, teasing. jennie squeezes at her waist, lisa flinching away from her, laughing. “what’s for dinner, wife?” she asks, lisa’s chin resting at jennie’s shoulder with her arms around her waist.

“you didn’t answer me, _wife,_ ” jennie says, teasing, bumping her shoulder up where lisa’s head rests.

“just wanna see how you’re doing,” she mutters straightforward. “it’s everywhere.”

“i'm okay. i’m used to it,” jennie says. _it,_ all the supposed suffocating damage control by her management and not looking at the comments section of her social media because she already knows what’s waiting.

lisa hums at that, moving to set the table for dinner. “have you talked with him yet?” she asks, busying at the kitchenware.

kai did call, asking her how she is and how her management is handling it. a few strewn reassurances here and there, but they’re something that jennie doesn’t really need especially from him because he won’t understand the ordeal of being subjected to hate in these dating scandals anyway.

“it isn’t a big thing,” jennie says in nonchalance, but it’s the truth anyway. “i'm used to it, lili. but thank you, you didn’t really have to.”

“i mean, who else would suffer through your cooking?” she asks.

jennie smacks her arm and snatches the comforter for herself through the night.

-

jennie doesn’t see kai anymore— isn’t seeing him for weeks now. he doesn’t bother calling but sees him almost everywhere, a buzz around his name that he started existing as among everything that doesn’t matter in jennie’s periphery.

all she sees is lisa. she’s built her ground firm and takes it a day at a time toward the road to her.

-

the feeble fire with kai eventually combusts and momentarily reduces jennie’s conscience into nothing.

_she did this for love, and she’s doing it for herself._

-

perhaps it was the way that lisa looked at her in worry that it overcomes her: the want to be hurt by her that everything collapses with jennie tipping her toes to press a kiss onto her lips before anything becomes bigger than herself to withdraw.

lisa kisses back in confused reciprocal, and then pulls away with her hands on jennie's waist. "jennie," she whispers. a warning the same from before christmas, a plead-laced and painful utterance settled in her name that makes jennie want a sting from lisa's hands like it's a sort of atonement for what she's done. she wants somewhere in her body hurt, anything at all from lisa because maybe, the shame from doing her wrong would be erased from a mark of her hand, a bite, a slap, _punish her_ , a scratch to leave a scar that would mark lisa on her forever, anything.

jennie looks at her, earnest and reaching, and lisa looks back at her just the same, afraid and looking for something that would give her anything to know enough on what's happening, because jennie called her way past midnight, voice trembling in something that lisa's never heard before even at her worst.

"jennie, talk to me please?" lisa asks, because she shouldn't be here at all, and she spent half an hour meddling on every possibility with what could have happened, only to be met with jennie kissing her, the weeks building back what they had suddenly erased, and lisa can't pretend to not be tired anymore with all the pushing and pulling in between when this is something that she doesn't want to give up.

"please, lisa," jennie says, pulling at the collar of lisa's cardigan, clutching at the fabric and brings her face where lisa's shoulder and neck meet, her breath hot against her skin and staggering. "please, please, please, just..." she utters, hitching at her words that fall from her mouth without any sense, but lisa gets it and shushes her gently, hopes her soft resignation to jennie with whispered okays sounded reassuring enough as she pulls her closer by an arm.

lisa sighs, _please let it mean something because i am tired_ , and coaxes jennie's face out, a hand on her cheek and kisses her other, her forehead and then meets her lips. jennie's shoulders sag in relief, lisa's kiss like a sort of breath she's been deprived of her whole life, her whole night that she's been with kai, can't bear to continue on pretending that led to that fight. maybe she should be thankful at that but it's fucking stifling because it’s the peak without lisa and she'd rather be with her in a distance, lisa hating her than anywhere.

and it shouldn’t hurt, what kai said. it shouldn’t be a slap in the face, but it is because it’s true and hates it how much it reminds her of lisa’s words before she’d ran off to her mother for a week. _what the hell does she know about anything better._

nevertheless, it's a fire that still goes on with kai, and if lisa's near the pyre of her ruins, she doesn't know. it doesn't seem to matter, because she'd hurt her and there’s no other side of that coin. this is what she gets for playing god, but lisa's started kissing her like kai never happened, like ruining everything didn’t happen. this is lisa, sincere in devotion but feels the remorse somewhere with the way she feels lisa kiss her with her eyes open.

so jennie starts kissing lisa's neck, pulling her impossibly closer by her cardigan, cannot take to feel lisa's slight incline on rejection and blank compliance because maybe, she doesn't want to do this anymore. "hurt me, lisa," jennie says against lisa's skin, kai's words echoing through her head among everything, but it felt like a projection of lisa. in her head, it’s the chorus of her wrongs she made in this time of her life. _i'm nothing to you, jennie, let's not lie. this is not going anywhere, but you already knew that._ "give me what i deserve," she says, choking up at her breath that she realizes she's crying, and thinks _this is where i am good at._ "hurt me like i've hurt you or more, i don't care, i just—"

"jennie, what are you—"

"i deserve it," jennie whispers, refusing to look at lisa's eyes, fumbling with the fabric of her cardigan. “i don’t deserve you.” _this is where i am good at. ruining beautiful things, counting all the spite that i make._ “god, lisa, i don’t deserve you, i—”

and if lisa seethes in anger, thinking of all the worst possibilities with what kai could have done, jennie doesn’t see it. everything just stills for a while, and jennie calms until god-knows-when in lisa’s arms, holding her, listening into her heartbeat and clinging onto her cardigan as her lifeline. and then there’s a kiss on her forehead, a kiss on her lips and she’s being pushed down on the bed, lisa towering over her as she takes off her cardigan and her shirt.

jennie looks up at her like lisa is her god, and meets her halfway for a kiss. lisa takes off her sweatshirt, kisses everything better until she’s pinned her down, started tracing her body with her mouth and bites at jennie’s bare shoulder.

jennie gasps and arches her back from the mattress to reach for lisa’s lips, only to be put down again with a hand on her neck. lisa’s eyes darken at the sight, flushed jennie and aching for something to feel. flushed jennie taking lisa’s fingers into her mouth and a hand on her wrist that has her still on the bed.

“be angry with me, i don’t care, just give it to me, lisa—” jennie trails off, groaning when lisa parts her legs apart and bites at her neck.

she kisses angry and mouth descending from her neck and stops at her stomach. jennie hates how much it reminds her of the nights with kai, all those bruising pleasure to erase what she has with lisa, but her absence and kai’s hands were only souvenirs heavy on her hands of all the most futile attempts. jennie only missed lisa more.

lisa’s hands unbutton jennie’s jeans and takes them off, a little greedy. “look at me,” lisa says, lips grazing at her skin and reaches for her neck, scratching slightly. jennie’s eyes close, moaning softly at the slight burn of lisa’s fingers and waits for more. “look at me, jennie,” lisa says again, and plants kisses on her navel, sickeningly sweet and kind that makes jennie tear a little.

her lips meet jennie’s again and snakes her arm on her shoulders, her other hand teasing jennie against the lace of her underwear that makes her squirm. jennie lets out a soft cry, another with lisa’s tongue against the back of her ear. “i hate it when you’d come home smelling like him,” she begins. “i can’t stand thinking about all the possible reasons why you would,” she whispers, her hand relentless at jennie’s core that she’s choking on lisa’s name.

she takes her time working on some mercy until her hand slips into the fabric and presses a finger in jennie. she groans against lisa’s mouth and bites at her lips. lisa kisses her slow and languid, the pace of her fingers slower and deeper that jennie feels like the room is on fire. lisa presses in another finger and draws away from jennie, taking in the sight of her writhing desperate against her slow fingers.

lisa teases her, saves her when her hands render her naked and her mouth trails down again, tongue to work on jennie’s high, a hand threaded through her hair and pulls. jennie’s legs close slightly. lisa pushes her fingers that jennie clenches soon, unable to keep still and loud that lisa grounds her down with a hand on her hip onto the mattress.

lisa is overwhelmingly generous, fingers and tongue unsatisfied on jennie’s bliss, wants jennie a writhing mess, beautiful like this, coming apart and altogether and sounding unhinged than she’d ever had. wants jennie to beg just for lisa to stop, the closest to a punishment that she wants. wants jennie to forget kai and wants jennie for herself.

and lisa does when there’s a cry from jennie, sounding sweeter than anything, her name in the middle of a whine that sets lisa’s body on fire.

lisa wipes her mouth, and settles her head on jennie’s stomach, still feeling her tremble and hearing gasps at the aftermath. lisa traces marks on jennie’s body, bitten and bruised kisses painted on the expanse of skin and kisses soothingly. a hand brushes at her hair, and looks up to jennie in flush, mouth parted. lisa smiles and crawls up to kiss her unbearably full of adoring. there’s hands on her face, and lisa gives her a peck of protectiveness, another for being _her,_ a kiss because jennie chose her anyway no matter the circumstance, lisa’s only consolation.

when she stops, there are tears in jennie’s eyes that lisa wipes and kisses against her cheek. she smiles small, reserved and revealing that jennie’s seen more than a few times for herself.

“you’ve hurt me like this, jennie,” she says.

-

_the waters clear, and jennie draws closer on thick ice beneath her feet to lisa._

-

“we fought,” jennie says after a while against lisa’s skin, her fingers that trace patterns on her arm coaxing her to talk a little more. “it reminded me of what i did to you and i thought you hurting me would make up for everything.”

it isn’t everyday that jennie is vulnerable but she is, letting herself be transparent more than she already is with lisa.

“i just wanted you more when i'm with him,” she says, quiet and feeling free. “i hadn’t been talking with him for weeks and i knew it’ll come to this eventually, but i…” _i just needed time._

it takes time for jennie to stand on a backbone no matter how strong she seems and fast against the superficial life: anything that she can control and lisa’s seen how fucking good jennie is at that, but jennie’s always losing in the things that matter most. in things inescapable and needing mending, in needing movement on things she cannot hold directly.

everything with lisa isn’t planned. nothing that has got to do with her is planned, she just follows and the roads are everywhere in a tangled mess that always leads to her anyway. maybe this is an unfortunate one that she’s taken, less travelled by and it’s a mess, but lisa is there anyway, her sun at the horizon and always waiting with the patience of forever.

“did he hurt you?” lisa asks, the slight tremor of anger in it not lost to jennie that makes her put a hand on lisa’s chest, hopes it is reassuring.

“he didn’t lay a hand on me, no,” she replies as lisa holds hers and squeezes, the hand on her arm pulling her closer than she could ever be with lisa. “but we fought, and there are things i can’t talk about yet.”

lisa nods, understanding, and then asks after the tension in the silence had enough. “what are we doing, jennie?”

lisa’s voice is tired when she breathes out the question, an exhale heavy in the room that gravitates at jennie’s heart to know how much painful this night had already been.

“what does this mean because i’m tired trying to pretend that i can love you again as a friend,” she says. “i can’t take being confused around you anymore.”

jennie feels ashamed, and she feels being pulled apart into pieces, following lisa into the bottom pit of things that had been beautiful between them.

jennie puts them back together with a kiss, loves lalisa more and more. “you’re everything to me,” she says against her lips, reminiscent of a night seeming long ago, but this feels like a dream, too.

“you’re my best friend,” jennie whispers, feeling absolved, hearing the sigh from lisa’s mouth.

jennie leans in for a kiss, and lisa meets her halfway, almost healed at jennie’s devotion struck at her heart, lodged deep.

-

**_Update: EXO’s Kai And BLACKPINK’s Jennie Confirm Breakup_ **

_According to an exclusive report made by SBS funE on January 25, EXO’s Kai and BLACKPINK’s Jennie have broken up._

_Kai and Jennie previously made headlines as a “top idol couple” after going public with their relationship on January 1. However, after just one month of dating, the two artists have decided to go their separate ways._

_According to the report, Kai and Jennie have decided to maintain their original senior-junior relationship. The report revealed that both were focused on their work and chose this decision for their respective groups and fans._

_The report continued, “Kai and Jennie will do their best in their respective fields. They’ve agreed to support each other.”_

_In response to this report, SM Entertainment stated that they were in midst of “confirming” these details._

-

jennie doesn’t believe in fate, but waking before sunrise in lisa’s arms makes her believe in everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anywAy, what is up with lisa and jennie in running man. sum high quality cute shit.  
> say hiiiiiii https://www.wattpad.com/user/cottagecorekim

**Author's Note:**

> tried those ao3 title things (w these parentheses thing hooooooooo boy does that feel organic). anyway, sorry for the drabble.


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